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All quiet at Chelski, but Spurs are singing
 QUIET as mice. Quiet as little mice. Quiet as little mice trying to avoid being found by a big cat. That was the Chelsea fans on Sunday. Readers, you should have seen their faces.
It was quite extraordinary and revealed what a crummy club Chelsea are, once you strip away the caviar and roubles. Flamini scored and Stamford Bridge went as quiet as I have ever seen a football ground.
 This was one of the most pulsating matches of the season but the home fans just sat there in stony silence.
It was pathetic. The press box at the Bridge is right in the middle of the Chelsea supporters, so I saw first hand the truth about these soulless glory boys.
They have only been supporters for two years and hardly any of them could tell you who Ken Bates is.
Jose thinks Arsenal were happy with a point – he should know what his own fans thought: ‘They only sing when they’re drawing.”
 I SUPPED a sweet sherry with Gran on Saturday night to celebrate Super Spurs’ 5-1 battering of the Haddocks.
 We’d drained the dregs come midweek after watching Brain of Britain Ashley Cole shove the Gooners’ inflatable mobile phones where the sun don’t shine; waving bye bye to Alan Pardew and toasting the discovery of Theo Walcott’s personality. (They say BBC researchers found it under a bench in Germany, nestling shyly between the tattered waistband of John Terry’s jockstrap and a rolled up copy of Smash Hits.)
There are those who crow that Theo’s award will be the only trinket adorning the Ashburton General Library this season. But Norman Wisdom lookey likey Arsene Winger was having none of that on Sunday. “We can still win the title,” he spluttered while tumbling backwards over Jens Lehmann’s empty sippy cups. Sorry Arsene, but if your tumble tots can’t even emmulate Spurs and beat Mourinho and his Chelski Village Idiots, you probably shouldn’t book that bus just yet.
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